


Young in Russia

by annoyennui



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Assassins, Badass SHIELD Agents, Gen, Murder at the Ballet, Teen Natasha, pre-SHIELD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-12 23:03:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2127747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annoyennui/pseuds/annoyennui
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off of a Tumblr post.</p><p>Before working for SHIELD she worked for the KGB. 16 year old Natalia Romanova assassinating a foreign diplomat to the soundtrack of the Russian ballet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Young in Russia

Moscow, November 2001

Whether they liked the ballet or not, no one could ever say the Bolshoi was not a beautiful theatre. It was in all respects, from its name to its neoclassical architecture, grand.  
It was this that Alan Harrison thought as his driver approached the building. Well, it was what Natalia Alianovna Romanova assumed he thought. 

Harrison was an American diplomat of some sort there on the invitation of a coworker who had noticed his worn out demeanor after last month's terrorist attack in New York. He needed a night away from the stress of politics, a night to enjoy the Russian high culture he had come to love so much. It almost made Natasha feel guilty, taking it away from him. But she was there to do her job, with a gun strapped to her thigh under a black evening gown. 

Natasha watched as her mark checked the watch on his meaty wrist and took a small pill before leaving the car. Inside Harrison greeted and was greeted by friends beneath the opulent crystal chandeliers of the foyer They, like the others around them made small talk about the weather, their families, and the skill of the dancers about to preform. 

"She's so accomplished for someone so young this Svetlana Lunkina" Harrison said in heavily accented Russian, still uncomfortable with the feel of the language on his tongue despite many years of study in college.  
"18, the youngest Giselle the Bolshoi has ever seen" one acquaintance , an overweight man with a ruddy face and no hair, informed him "She really is wonderful."  
"You Russians really do start young." he replied clearly impressed. "At 18 my mother was still doing my laundry."  
The people around him chuckled, some sincere, some only to be polite.

At a signal that went unnoticed by Natasha, the patrons began to make their way into the theatre itself. She trailed Harrison and the others at a distance as they made their way to the upper levels. 

The outside of the Bolshoi, though wonderful, paled in comparison to its interior. Crimson drapes hung in every box of each of the 5 balconies, ready to be closed should a visitor feel the need for privacy. The railings and the many chairs were upholstered in a similarly luxurious fabric . The walls and balconies of the theatre were a warm shade of white, with detailed designs carved out of the wood and painted in gold. 

Above the centre of the theatre the 9 muses were painted in a circle with a delicate hand, each seemingly lifted from a Renaissance painting.In the middle hung a crystal chandelier twice the size of those in the foyer. The thousand of hanging crystals cast thousands of minuscule stars on the surfaces of the ballet hall.  
Everything in the room came together in such a way that despite the electric lights Natasha felt as if she had stepped back in time. 

She took her place a row behind Harrison and the others. She kept a direct line of sight to the back of his large salt and pepper head. She would need it as she had learned in a deadly mission months ago. A mission whose outcome still left her shaken.  
The hall fell into a hush as the conductor entered. The audience applauded and fell silent again. Music began to play.  
The heavy curtains opened onto a beautifully decorated backdrop. It was painted to look as if the stage truly was a village near the Rhine over looked by the alps. A small cottage was built to the left of the stage.

Natasha, Harrison, and the others in attendance watched as a young man appeared on the stage. Natasha know him instantly. He was Hilarion, a peasant man in love with Giselle.The dancer placed a bouquet of flowers on the cottage window and dashed away before his beloved could see him.

Natasha found herself absorbed in the story and the dance. In truth she missed ballet. The studio where he had practiced was her second home. As a child she found joy in the athleticism and grace it required. She had truly believed that the dance was her future. That she might one day dance the stage of the Bolshoi where she sat or the Mariinsky in Saint Petersburg. But things changed as the so often a cruelly do.

Natasha watched as Giselle with her beautiful blue dress and weak heart fell in love with a stranger. She watched her mark with his high blood pressure and weak bladder as he shuffled in his seat. Incontinence was not an uncommon side effect of some medications, medications that Natasha knew Harrison took daily. 

She was alert then, taking in every move the man made. It was not a time for distraction and dance, it was a time to observe.  
Harrison slowly became increasingly uncomfortable in his chair, adjusting every few moments.  
He stood, as Hilarion blew the horn, and quickly maneuvered his way towards the exit. Try as he might his bladder couldn't wait until the intermission. 

Natasha placed two fingers over her wrist counted out the beats of her heart.  
At 75, approximately one minute later, she too stood and inched her way to the exit. The bathroom would have been easy to find even without the blueprints she had meticulously studied in preparation for the assignment. She walked calmly and quietly meeting few people along the way. Natasha avoided their eyes, she wanted no reason for them to remember that she was even there. The music from the ballet followed her downthe hall. The sound of string instruments was faint but still beautiful.  
To her left was a door with the silhouette of a man and a label in Cyrillic. She reached a hand through the leg slit of her dress and removed the gun from its holster and pushed the door open with the other.

A lone man with elbows resting on the sink tuned as she entered, Harrison.  
"Miss, you shouldn't be in here." He told her. She looked at him and paused. Natasha knew the piece, she new that the music would soon reach a crescendo loud enough to cover the sound of her gun.  
Harrison too waited, confused as to why a young woman was standing in the men's washroom.  
His eyes flashed to the weapon at her side and the blood drained from his face.  
"What the fuck!" Natasha raised her arm and fired.  
The tile behind Harrison's head exploded into thousands of shards. He covered his head and fell to the ground to avoid the debris.

A miss.

Natasha stepped towards the fallen man. He looked up at her, and pity rather than terror passed over his face.  
"My God" he whispered in Russian "You're so young. You can't be more than 16." 

Natasha's stomach knotted and she fought to keep her face blank. The mans sympathy was the last thing she wanted. The last thing she needed if she was going to kill the man in cold blood.

"Please, you don't have to do this. You don't have to work for them, for who ever sent you. Terrorists, KGB, it doesn't matter. We can help you." 

Harrison's voice dropped.

"You're so young" he repeated, this time in his native tongue.

Natasha looked down at him, her face cold and controlled. Behind her she could here the orchestra playing. Giselle's heart was soon to fail her. She raised her gun.

"Like you said, Harrison. We start young in Russia"

Natasha fired, the bullet met its mark.

**Author's Note:**

> Svetlana Lunkina is an actual dancer and was the youngest Giselle to dance at the Bolshoi, but in 1998 not 2001. And Giselle was preformed attheBolshoi in 2001.  
> Giselle is a French ballet. The story is a lot more complicated than the little I mentioned here. Summaries can be found everywhere online.  
> The Tumblr post can be found here http://nancydrewofficial.tumblr.com/post/93144359093/i-need-a-black-widow-movie-i-need-a-16-yr-old


End file.
